Hermione's Letters
by wendymarlowe
Summary: Hermione's brilliant plan to annoy Headmistress Umbridge goes awry when she's called on the carpet to explain to Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall exactly what she and the Weasley twins have been up to. Mysterious packages have been arriving for the Hogwarts faculty, and nobody outside the DA seems to know what's going on . . .


Hermione knew what Professor Snape wanted even before he called her name.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I need the three of you to stay for a few minutes after class." Snape froze Neville's cauldron with a flick of his wand - Neville had already knocked it over twice and had just bumped it a third time. "Ten points from Gryffandor, Mr. Longbottom - you'll never manage a passing O.W.L. if you can't stop spilling your work."

Ron and Harry looked at Hermione, but she waved off their concern. "I'll talk to him," she whispered so Snape wouldn't hear. "You two will be late for divination if you don't hurry."

They seized their opportunity. Harry slipped out along with the other students at the end of class; Ron sidled up to Snape and announced "We don't have anything to do with it so you'll have to talk to Hermione!" before dashing out after his friend. Eventually Hermione and Professor Snape were the last two left in the classroom, and Snape was not impressed.

"I assume you know what this is about?" he asked after the last of the Slytherins had cleared out.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Please, tell me."

Snape scowled at her. "The packages, Miss Granger! I received two this morning, and Professor McGonagall is up to four. It appears all the staff members have received mysterious packages, with the notable exception of Hagrid. Headmistress Umbridge is quite beside herself."

"Is that a problem?" Hermione asked.

Snape's expression turned cold. "In a general sense, it is unwise to annoy any person who has the capability to make your life miserable - or to expel you for Hogwarts."

"Not that some of them don't deserve it," came a voice from the doorway. Hermione whirled around. Professor McGonagall entered, carrying a stack of four nondescript brown boxes.

"Minerva, I said I would -"

"Nonsense," she said. "I'm curious too. So Miss Granger - consensus among the teachers is that you are probably behind this rather remarkable campaign. I'm left to ask, though - what exactly are you attempting to accomplish?"

Hermione swallowed. Professor Snape's glower was not what anyone would call friendly, and even McGonagall's hard stare was unnerving in its own way. What had started out sounding like a daring prank was now decidedly less fun.

"Umbridge reads all our mail," Hermione explained, hating the uncertain note in her voice.

"Headmistress Umbridge," McGonagall corrected. "And she reads ours too."

"So . . . some of us . . . decided to make her job a bit more interesting. And time-consuming."

"You, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley, I assume?" Snape asked.

"The Weasley twins, actually. I refuse to rat on any students currently at Hogwarts, but the Weasley twins have agreed to add some mail-order business to their joke shop."

Snape and McGonagall shared a significant look. Each seemed to be urging the other to speak first.

"These are clearly muggle machines," Snape finally said, "but what are they?" He slid open a desk drawer and removed two small objects, placing them on the corner of his desk.

"I have different ones," McGonagall said, adding the contents of her stack of boxes to the pile.

Hermione suddenly wished she hadn't volunteered to share the DA's little prank with the staff - particularly with these specific professors. It was one thing to set the joke up in the abstract, but in practice . . .

Time to just bite the bullet. "Toys. Muggle toys."

Snape's brow furrowed. "I may have grown up in the wizarding world, but I think I would have heard about muggle children playing with toys like these."

"Err . . . not toys for children, Professor."

Professor McGonagall seemed to have a better idea what Hermione meant - her cheeks were noticeably redder than they had been a minute ago. She held up one of her acquisitions. "This one?"

"That's a vibrator," Hermione explained as straightforwardly as she could manage. "It uses batteries on the inside, and it vibrates back and forth very quickly, and it's used for . . ." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Say it, Miss Granger," Snape ordered.

"For personal gratification," she choked out. "Muggle women find them very useful."

"And this one?" he asked.

She looked at the floor, avoiding his face. "Anal beads. They go . . . inside . . ."

Professor McGonagall picked up an oversized purple dildo from her pile. Despite the vibrant color, the shape and detail were incredibly realistic. "I think I can figure out what this is supposed to be."

"What about that one?" Snape indicated a clear silicone ring with a tiny battery compartment in it.

"Cock ring, with a vibrator."

"Which is . . .?"

Hermione looked up at Professor McGonagall, her plea written across her face. "Must I say it, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall gave her a tight-lipped smile and a tiny shrug. "Miss Granger, if you are going to instigate a movement on this scale, you should at least be able to verbalize names of your materials. Or are you wishing you hadn't set the ball rolling?"

Hermione sighed and bit back her embarrassment. "Headmistress Umbridge has overstepped, as I know you feel as well. No one outside Hogwarts will care if she reads the students' mail - we're just children. But the Weasleys and I hoped that if suddenly a large volume of packages came for the professors - and those packages all contained something embarrassing like sex toys - she would . . . I don't know. Stop checking all the mail, maybe, or at least ask someone else to do the screening too. Then there would be another person we might persuade to petition the Board on our behalf. Or who might stop checking quite so diligently." She tried to keep her shoulders back, to look more confident, but her eyes kept sliding back to the little pile of sex toys on the table.

Snape picked up a chrome cock cage and examined it at different angles, the shiny metal catching the light as he rotated it. "You said the Weasley twins made all these?"

"Oh, no," Hermione answered. "They're just bulk-ordering the toys from a muggle company through the mail and then selling them to Hogwarts students to ship here by owl. Since we can't very well have a muggle postman deliver to Hogwarts."

"Indeed," Snape observed dryly. He was looking more dour than ever.

Professor McGonagall seemed more amused than angry, though. She frowned thoughtfully at the small pile of boxes and asked, "Have these been sent to all the professors?"

"All except Hagrid," Snape answered before Hermione could.

"Well the thing is, they cost money," Hermione said. "Rather more than any one student could pay for. So each student who orders something gets to choose which professor it's addressed to. We haven't seen the results, of course, but it's been interesting seeing the mail arrive each morning and discovering which professors have received packages."

Snape drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at her. "So you view us as your entertainment, Miss Granger?"

That glare was intimidating - no wonder Harry hated potions so much. Hermione wasn't used to being the focus of Professor Snape's wrath, and the force of it was unnerving. "It's really more a jab at Umbridge, sir," she whispered.

"HEADMISTRESS Umbridge," he hissed. "You would do well to show respect - something you and Potter and Weasley all seem to have issues with."

"Nonsense, Severus," Professor McGonagall interjected. "I don't have any respect for that horrid woman and I don't believe the students should have to either, just because she got herself appointed Queen of Hogwarts. Not that I suggest calling her anything other than her proper title to her face, of course, Miss Granger, but 'That Old Bat' does quite nicely for in private."

Snape turned an interesting shade of purple, and Hermione had to bite her lip to stifle a relieved laugh. One professor, at least, was on her side! "Of course, Professor," she choked out.

McGonagall tapped her chin with her wand. "Any reason you've chosen to send these to the professors instead of ordering them for yourselves?"

"Muggle law says it's illegal to sell these toys to children," Hermione answered. "Fred and George could get in trouble for selling them to anyone under eighteen - they're barely old enough to buy things like that themselves. I thought it best to err on the side of fewer barriers Umbridge could put in our path."

Snape shot Professor McGonagall a meaningful glance. "What are you getting at, Minerva?"

"Just a thought. Miss Granger, I'd like to purchase some of these. One for every sixth- and seventh-year, I should think. Yes, that will do - no, maybe the fifth-years as well."

Snape's expression would have been entirely comical if Hermione hadn't already been in a state of shock. "Professor?"

Professor McGonagall grinned. "That Old Bat is spooked already, and I'd like to make her a bit more uncomfortable. And since I'm quite obviously older than eighteen, there's no muggle legal trouble. I'll send the Weasley twins an owl tonight - you think they would be willing to select the actual toys to send? If I'm spending the money, I might as well get the students something they won't injure themselves with."

Hermione forced her mouth closed. "I - I'm sure they would."

"Are you mad?" Snape demanded.

"Insane? No. Mad at Umbridge? Definitely. Hogwarts is a mess at the moment and it won't stop until she's gone. If I can pull her tail and give the students something else to occupy their time with in one fell swoop, it's worth the money. I can afford it."

"But - do you really want the students playing with_ these_?" He indicated the pile of toys.

"Would you rather they be experimenting with each other?" she countered. "Sexuality is a healthy part of adolescence, and it can be a great stress-reliever. And heaven knows the students are under some unnecessary stress right now. Thank you, Miss Granger, you may go. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this conversation to anyone except Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley - I'd like it to not go farther than that."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied automatically. She felt weak at the knees. But hopeful - what would Umbridge say?

She couldn't wait to find out.


End file.
